Coquettish Violence

Every time you bring it up
You sicken me.
I wish that I could hate you like I want to.
It would make this so much easier.
Coquettish delights have violent ends,
even when innocence is proven
and all is said and done.
I am not an adam.
I refuse to be taken as a
whore
putting it about like some
crazed
lustful
maniac.
I am a woman and you claim to love me.
How can this be
when you see how this affects me?
You've watched as my mood changes,
my face darkens,
my blood boils,
my eyes glaze and shine.

I am who I claim to be.
Are you?